Day 278: The Next Step Knows More Than You Do
Yesterday we talked about making a decision before you're 100% sure. And how rarely we ever get that kind of certainty before we move forward.
We may get a feeling, a nudge, or a moment where something in us recognizes a direction before our mind has enough information to explain it. But we usually don't get the whole map.
That's the part we don't like.
We'd really like the feeling, the map, the guarantee, the outcome, the timeline, and a signed letter from the Universe saying we won't regret this. Then we would feel comfortable moving forward.
But that's not how guidance works.
Guidance gives us the next step. The place to start. And the next step knows more than we do.
That sounds strange, but I've seen it happen over and over again.
When I was mentoring women experts to build a business from their expertise, they couldn't see it. They felt completely overwhelmed when they came to me. They'd never built a business before. Would people really pay to learn what they were an expert on?
The most important part of what I taught them was to stop needing to see the whole path before they took the first step. Each step when show up when it was time for that step. And the path was being created based on their experience of the steps before and how they felt.
Your path in life is custom designed for you as adjusted as you live it, grow and change. You are co-creating it by feeling your way to happiness, joy, and fulfillment.
When we stand still trying to figure everything out from where we are, we only have access to the information available from that place. We can think, imagine, research, ask questions, make lists, and play out every possible scenario in our mind, but we are still doing it from the same spot.
Once we move, the view changes. By taking that first step you are signaling that you're doing this. You've stepped out in faith of where you're being led by the Universe.
All of a sudden, we meet someone, hear something, see what feels good and what doesn't. We discover what we couldn't have known ahead of time. A door opens. A door closes.
Something that looked perfect from a distance feels completely wrong up close. Something we almost dismissed begins to feel like home.
That's why the first step matters so much. Because it gives us new information.
It gives us the people the resources, whatever we need to keep moving. And maybe we get a glimpse a little further down the road.
I had that happen with the motorhome.
The original feeling came from that morning up the Baja, watching a man and his dog paddle boarding in a quiet cove before the RVs had filled in for the season.
Something in me knew. My soul wanted some version of that.
But at that point, I didn't know if it was about having an RV, taking short trips, spending more time in nature, being near the water, simplifying my life, or all of it woven together in a way I couldn't see yet.
I only had the feeling. So I followed it.
One step led to another.
Looking at Youtube videos of RVs gave me information. Looking at what was available on Facebook Marketplace in my area. Imagining myself in different spaces gave me information.
Actually seeing my motorhome show up on Marketplace gave me information.
The location is was living at when I got it gave me information.
Then when that location changed, the next place gave me information I could not have received any other way.
The information was exciting, inconvenient. Some of it asked me to adjust. Some of it confirmed what I already knew.
That's how a self-led life unfolds.
We listen, move, learn, adjust. We keep coming back to the feeling of what is true. We keep feeling our way long because that feel we're moving toward is the truest piece of guidance we have.
This is very different from forcing a plan.
A forced plan says, "I decided this is the way it has to happen, so I'm going to push until life cooperates."
Guidance says, "This is the direction. Take the next step and let the path show you more."
That requires trust. Not blind trust or passive trust. A living trust. The kind where you stay awake and keep paying attention.
You don't abandon yourself to the path. You participate with it.
You notice what opens, what contracts, where your energy rises, where your body says no. And you notice where peace appears, even if the circumstances are unfamiliar.
That's the information you can't get while standing on the curb waiting for the road to be perfectly clear.
You get it by stepping out.
People freeze when they think taking the first step means they are committing to the whole thing. How can that be the case, when you can't see the whole thing?
The first step is not a life sentence. It's the opening of a conversation.
It's you saying to the Universe, "I'm willing to explore this."
And the Universe saying, "Good. Now that you're moving, I can show you the next piece."
There is relief in that.
You don't have to know everything before you begin or be certain that this will be the final form. Most likely it won't be.
You don't have to explain the entire path to people who are standing outside your knowing.
You only have to be honest about what is calling you now.
The next step may confirm the direction, redirect you, or show you that what you thought you wanted was only a symbol for a feeling you wanted.
It also could bring you something better than the thing you were originally imagining.
But you won't know that from the curb. You'll know it from the movement.
So if there's something calling you and you're waiting until you understand the whole picture before you move, maybe today is the day to loosen that requirement.
Ask for the next step. Take it. Let it teach you. Because the next step may know more than you do.
Today's Gentle Practice
Think about one area of your life where you've been waiting for the whole map.
Ask yourself:
What is the next step that could give me more information?
It doesn't have to be big.
It doesn't have to be final.
It may be a conversation.
A search.
A visit.
A question.
A quiet hour imagining the possibility.
Let the step be a way of listening.
You don't have to know the whole path before you begin.
With you,
Lynn
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